This is the second of two semi-related stories - the first was Heaven
and Earth. This one takes place much later in Natalie's life--long after
Last Knight. I have to admit, it's a place I haven't been before--I like to
stay within the time frame of the show with the main characters--but I
was bored one (k)night and a very short version of this story happened.
A few months later, I decided it might have some merit, and played with
it some more and this is the result.
Just assume Natalie lived...
Permission granted to archive at www.fkfanfic.com. All others please
ask for permission.
Full Circle
by Dorothy Elggren
copyright May 1998
Part 1
"I wish you didn't have to leave," Cathy fussed as her mother
sat down with her duly stamped ticket, indicating she was cleared for
international travel to Toronto.
Cathy played with the straps of the carry-on luggage and bit
her lip. "I don't know how I would have gotten through this without
you. I just...wish you could stay."
"I know, Cathy," her mother said softly as she patted her
hand. "It hasn't been easy for you, and it's going to be hard for a
long time. I'm sorry."
Cathy stared at her hands, tears forming in her eyes. "Why
did he do it, Mom?" She looked up and said the one thing she'd meant
to keep back no matter what. "Was it my fault? Was it something
about me?"
Natalie Lambert Graham convulsively gripped her daughter's
hand. "Oh, honey, no...don't ever think that. Seth left because of
his problems, not yours. Don't ever think it was you. Not like
that."
Cathy stared into Natalie's eyes, wanting and needing to
believe. "I still love him, Mom. If he came back, I...I'd probably
let him come back... Even though he's with that red-headed..."
Natalie reached over and hugged her daughter, hurting for her.
She stroked her hair, "I know, Cath. I know." She stared into space,
through time to another place, and said softly, "You never really
understand why they do the things they do. And no matter how much you
want them to come back--they don't."
Cathy looked up at the odd tone in her Mother's voice. "Are
you talking about Dad? I thought you kicked him out."
Natalie smiled tartly. "I did kick him out. He certainly
wouldn't have left on his own. He liked things the way they were. He
thought that...well never mind, it's not important."
"Why do men think that they can have an affair and still
expect you to...? Why do they think it's okay?"
"I don't know, Cathy. And not all of them do, you know.
Don't let Seth's mistakes make you think all men are going to betray
you, because it's not true."
Cathy stared out the window as a plane taxied up and
stopped. "It just hurts so much, Mom."
"I know, honey," Natalie said, her voice suddenly strained.
"I know."
Cathy, for all her pain, heard that odd note again. She
looked at Natalie, tears sliding down her face, "You aren't talking
about Dad, are you, Mom?"
Natalie remained silent, surprised at Cathy's intuition.
Perhaps she was growing old and she was slipping. After a moment,
Natalie slowly shook her head no.
"Then who?"
Natalie felt tears forming in her eyes and blinked them back.
She wasn't supposed to feel this way after all this time. She took a
deep breath. "Just somebody I loved a long time ago. He promised
he'd never leave me, and then he left..."
Cathy stared at her mother, intrigued, her own shattered life
forgotten for a moment. "Who was he?"
Natalie smiled wryly, "Just a piece of *ancient* history,
dear."
"Why haven't I ever heard about him?" Cathy asked curiously.
"Because it happened long before I met your father," Natalie
said firmly, straightening up and stiffening her posture.
"Mom?" Cathy asked uncertainly, at the unshed tears in her
mother's eyes.
Natalie smiled, almost grimly. It was funny how, even now, it
could reach out and sweep over her with such intensity. Grief clawed
out her.
"Did Dad know about him?" Cathy asked.
"Yes and no," Natalie said shortly. "Cathy, listen, what
happened to me was unique. It wasn't because of another women. It
was...well, it was something else.
"Just because Seth didn't know how to be faithful, doesn't
mean you are going to spend your life in pain. I promise you, your
life will be better. You will be happy again. I know you don't think
it possible right now, but you will be. And there are things you can
do to be happy--starting right now."
Cathy wrinkled up her brow and looked at her mother in
disbelief. "How?"
Natalie stroked her daughter's hair and looked lovingly at her
daughter. "Find somebody else to help. There are so many people who
have troubles. They all need help, and when you help someone else,
suddenly you feel so much better. It gives you strength, it gives you
peace, it gives you hope. I don't know why, but it does. And then
you feel better about yourself and about life. I promise."
Cathy quirked her lip a bit. "Are you speaking from personal
experience again?"
Natalie smiled softly at her daughter. "Yes, I am. It was
one of the best things I ever learned to combat personal pain."
Cathy looked at her hands for a moment, then back at Natalie.
"I'll try."
"That's all you can do," Natalie said. "Just try. One day at
a time."
"One day at a time," Cathy echoed.
Just then, the flight attendant came on the loudspeaker. "We
are now boarding all of our first class and Medallion passengers for
flight 451 to Toronto."
Natalie looked at Cathy. "It's time to go. I'll call you
tonight. It will get better, honey. Trust me."
"I know, Mom..." Cathy hesitated a moment, "Will you tell me
about him sometime?"
Natalie gazed in amusement at Cathy. "It was a long time ago,
Cathy."
"Not if he still makes you cry, Mom," Cathy said with a sudden
sure wisdom.
"Aren't you the wise one, now." Natalie said.
"Will you?" Cathy persisted, suddenly very curious.
Natalie stared at her daughter, but not seeing her. "I don't
know. There were good reasons I never talked about it. I made him
some promises, and I've always believed it was important to keep them."
Then with a shaky laugh, Natalie looked at Cathy, "Besides, I
thought I was here for you, not for something that happened thirty
years ago. I worry about you, you know, being here in Denver all by
yourself."
Cathy smiled, "I know, but I'll be okay."
The attendant began speaking over the speaker system again,
announcing regular boarding for flight 451. With a sigh, Natalie
stood as Cathy picked up her luggage and handed it to her. "Kyle and
Jimmy have loved having you here, as always. You're so good with
them, I wish you could stay."
"I know," Natalie said, "but I have to get home for your
brother's award ceremony. I promised. Not only that, I think he
proposed to Emmy and he *can't* wait to tell me."
Cathy smiled and hugged her close. "That is just so typical
of Greg, isn't it. Well, I hope it's true. Emmy is far more patient
than I would ever be. I just wish we lived closer, so that we could
see you more. Maybe when all this settles...I'll move back." Cathy
ran a hand through her hair in frustration.
"Don't worry about that right now. You just take care of
those boys, and I'll see you soon. I love you, Cathy. I'll call you
tomorrow."
They hugged and Cathy watched her mother disappear down the
walkway, and then walked slowly up the terminal, not wanting to go
back and face the reality of her divorce, and intrigued by the hints
of her mother's secret love.
Natalie settled herself into her first class accommodations,
(she refused to travel economy class) and took a look around. The
flight attendant was immediately at her side.
"Would you like a drink?" she inquired.
"Yes, thank you," Natalie said softly, "Perrier, please. Oh,
could I also get a pillow and a blanket?" She suspected she would
sleep all the way home. It took a lot more out of her than it used to
playing with the grand-children.
With a smile, the attendant quickly took care of her needs.
Natalie sipped on her drink and fluffed the pillow, as she waited for
the plane to load.
Her thoughts were dark as the pain of Cathy's divorce burned
in her as if it were her own. It resonated with the pain of divorcing
Allen, and even farther back to...deeper wounds. She must be getting
old, she thought ruefully. She stared at the back of her hands, at
the enlarged veins visible through her translucent skin, at the age
spots. It had just happened...one day you were young and energetic,
the next, you had creaky knees, a cranky back, and not nearly enough
energy for everything you wanted to do. It really wasn't fair. She
didn't feel old, but...she was.
Natalie stared out the window into the darkness of the early
winter night. Her face stared back at her, reflected darkly in the
window. A shadow of who she was. Somehow she could never reconcile
her lined face with the person she was inside. She just didn't feel
like she ought to have three grown children and two grandchildren.
Three children, Cathy, Greg, and Nick. A legacy she had never
believed possible, and now couldn't imagine being without. She loved
them dearly, even when they weren't endearing, especially Greg.
She loved Greg, but many days she did not like him. He was
much more like his father than her. She had never been able to decide
if this was a good or bad thing. Time would tell, Natalie guessed.
Hopefully, he would make better choices than Allen had. Then again,
she couldn't blame everything on Allen, could she? Allen's mistakes
were all tangled up in her mistakes. As they say, hindsight is always
much better than foresight. Ah well.
It would have been nice to have known where she was going in
her life while she was living it, instead of reviewing it. Natalie
laughed quietly at the thought. She still didn't know where she was
going or what she wanted at sixty-nine. So perhaps she shouldn't
expect anyone else to make better choices than she had herself.
Choices, Natalie thought. She shook her head ruefully. She
had made some really bad ones, and look where she was now, both she
and Allen, for that matter. Both of them had lost their way so late
in life, and Natalie couldn't help but believe it was more her fault
than Allen's. Natalie closed her eyes at that. Somehow telling
herself that you live and learn just didn't help.
Natalie hadn't seen all that much of Allen since the divorce,
but if Greg really got married, she'd be seeing quite a bit of him,
she supposed. There would be the wedding rehearsals, the breakfast,
and the ceremony to name a few choice opportunities. Still, it was
really a pity Greg wouldn't do something rash just once in his life,
and elope.
A smile touched her lips. Allen. He really was making an ass
of himself these days. She wondered how young his current companion
was. The last had looked young enough to be Cathy's *younger* sister.
But she couldn't really point a finger at him. She had, after all,
fallen for a much older man herself a long time ago. And that,
Natalie knew, was where every fissure in her life had it's beginning,
not only her's, but Allen's, too.
Natalie shook her head at the thought. She still felt as if
she was responsible for Allen's behavior, their marriage's foundering
and slow sinking. All because of...well *him*. But she would never
know. She couldn't change what was now, any more than she could
change what had happened long before she ever met Allen.
Over time, Allen had turned away from Natalie, and eventually
had an affair--probably more than one. Natalie had never tried to
find the whole truth, what was the point? She had reached the limits
of her endurance and kicked him out. She still remembered that night
vividly. She'd been so angry she had pushed Allen out the door and
then thrown his clothes out after him.
Several yelling matches and a few weeks later, she'd filed for
divorce. It was something she should have done five years sooner, but
even after all these years, Natalie found herself unable to make
hasty decisions. She'd made one of those, oh so very long ago, and it
had led to disastrous consequences. She'd never made that mistake
again, now she was *too* slow and careful.
She laughed quietly at the thought and leaned back as the
plane began to back away from the gate. "What you need, Nat," she
told herself, "is about eight hours uninterrupted sleep."
But she wasn't going to get it. The day had stirred up her
memories, and she felt oddly uneasy. Her mind seemed to be running at
full throttle. She wished the flight was over and she was back in the
quiet of her own home.
A late-comer suddenly attracted her notice as he sat down
across the aisle from her. Young, blonde, blue-eyed, he reminded her
of Nick. No, not her son, Nick. But *Nick*. Her past. Twice now,
in one day, he had come to haunt her. The grief she had felt earlier
suddenly flooded through her like a tidal wave, pulling her away from
reality, back into the grief that never quite went away.
Grief.
So much grief.
She'd mourned a life-time, and knew she would mourn him until
death. She could go months, sometimes even a year or two, and then
something would happen, and it would sweep over her.
She looked at the young man who resembled Nick so much in
anguished resentment. No, it wasn't Nick. "But it should be,"
something inside her whispered. "It should be." After all this time,
after thirty years with Allen, she still missed him, still loved him,
and still couldn't resolve her past. You'd think love would die after
thirty years. But it didn't. It just didn't.
And Natalie closed her eyes and let the memories flow.
"You can't deny what's in your heart."
"What are you saying?" Nick asked halfway between puzzlement
and fear.
"I have faith that there's a future for us, here as we are, or
somewhere else," Natalie said with absolute surety. She looked up
into his eyes earnestly. "I believe in you. I trust you. Make
love to me, Nick. Take just a little at a time."
"I'm afraid of what might happen," Nick said painfully.
"Don't be afraid. I'm not afraid of death or an eternity in
darkness, as long as I can spend it with you. All I have is
faith and love. All I'm asking is for you to make love to me. I
*trust* you."
The words echoed through her mind. Haunting her. They were
the last words she had ever spoken to him. She'd looked into his
eyes, and seen so much love and hope mixed up with the despair and
doubt.
"I won't leave you...whatever happens. We'll be together,"
Nick had said with a quiet passion.
And she'd believed him. Then he'd touched her, kissed her
briefly. Then with passion, he'd kissed her wrist. She stared at her
wrist and remembered how he'd looked at her with golden eyes. The
clarity of that moment was still tangible, it had never faded, never
become a distant memory. She felt as if she'd lived the rest of her
life imprisoned in that moment.
Natalie had often wondered if somehow Nick had given her a
small portion of his vampire capability to remember when he'd taken
her blood. Of all the moments in her life, that one was the strongest
and clearest. Not her wedding, the birth of her children, or any
other moment had ever dimmed it.
She could still remember the feel of his fangs when he'd
touched her neck and suddenly buried them in her artery in a single
swift smooth motion. The orgasmic pulsing wave of feelings that had
washed over her, through her, and swirled around her at that moment
had been the most sensual and yet oddly painful experience she'd ever
had.
His mind had been inside of hers, and Natalie had seen inside
of him. Body and soul, they'd been knitted together. She'd gone limp
from the sheer explosion of emotions, feelings, and memories. His
memories... It had been frightening, and not-frightening. She'd
known at that moment the true violence of the vampire, what lengths it
would go to, the seductions it would undertake, the murder--anything
for the blood, the life force. And she'd known, finally, that Nick
loved her, with a passion she would never have believed. Behind that
moody exterior, he'd hidden a depth of feeling not even she'd guessed
at.
She'd felt it all. Everything. It had spilled out of him, and
rushed through her, making her fingers and toes tingle with the
intensity.
Anger. Passion. Loneliness. Hatred. Lust. Love. Despair.
Death. And Hope. So much hope... Then she'd lost consciousness...
Natalie had believed they would be together, but she'd woken
alone in ICU, with so many attachments, she'd looked like a medical
experiment.
She'd blinked and watched the fuzzy white blur resolve itself
into the sterile white of a hospital room. Time had no meaning in
those first few hours of semi-consciousness. Knowledge had come in
odd little bits and pieces through those first few days. Some had
come from doctors and nurses, some from friends and family. The worst
from Captain Reese several days later.
No one, she learned, had known who had brought her in. No
one. She'd just suddenly been in emergency, so near death that they had
given her no chance for survival. Yet she had survived, and no one
knew why she had survived. She should have died. She hadn't.
They had no information on her attack. They didn't know how,
or where or why she'd been attacked. They only knew she'd nearly died
as a result.
Worst of all, no one knew where Nick was. He had vanished as
if he'd never existed, and Natalie had been alone.
After the hospital had overcome the confusion of her unusual
arrival and established her identity, they'd called the police.
Eventually someone had called Nick's place, and when he never
responded, they had discovered he was gone.
Metro had conducted a full-scale investigation, and Natalie
had been at the center of it, like a fly trapped in a spider web.
Everyone was sure there was a connection between Nick's disappearance
and Natalie's attack, but they were unable to find it. The doctors
had not allowed anyone to disturb or question Natalie for some time.
They insisted she be kept quiet and secure until she was stable.
She'd been in the dark about everything. Finally, when she began to
panic at their non-answers about Nick, they'd let Reese in. He'd been
the lucky one to tell her the bad news. All of it. He just didn't
know how bad the news he'd brought her was.
He told her of Nick's disappearance, her abrupt appearance in
emergency, and the investigation.
"Natalie," Reese said softly, holding her hand, "his loft is
completely empty. It's as if a tornado went through and wiped it all
out--as if he was never there. There's nothing left at all."
He'd been hoping she'd know something--anything. Natalie had
been dry-eyed, stunned, and completely betrayed. She had managed to
choke out something to the effect that she knew nothing. Which, on
one level, was absolutely true.
No one had guessed at the truth, though there were rumors, and
speculation about it. Cops could be violent when they went over the
edge. And Nick had been over the edge with Tracy's death. Everybody
knew that. There's a limit to how much a cop can take, and Nick had
lost two partners, violently, in less than a year. So people looked
at her from the corners of their eyes and wondered if he'd attacked
her. Wondered if that was why he'd disappeared. But it was only
speculation. There was no proof. There was nothing...
Natalie stated adamantly that Nick hadn't touched her. She
claimed her last memory was getting out of her car at his loft. That
was the truth, as far as it went. And the force could corroborate
that little fact, for her car had still been parked at the loft when
they'd gone looking for Nick. Natalie wondered why it hadn't been
moved, along with everything else, but she'd never known. She could
only speculate.
Once Natalie recovered and the investigation died down from
lack of evidence, the storm of speculation had withered away, forgotten,
except by Natalie. He was gone. Nick was gone. Despite his promise,
he was gone.
Natalie recovered physically and was released from the
hospital to pick up and go on with her life. Emotionally, though, she
was a devastated and empty wasteland, unable to cope with what had
happened. Metro pled with her to come back, but Natalie refused. One
way or another, that life was over. She couldn't go back to the
sterility of that life--especially not without Nick. Never without
Nick.
But eventually, she knew she had to do something with her
life, and the only way to do that was to face what had happened. It
was six weeks after she left the hospital when she finally was able
to face going to the loft. She'd gone there against everyone's
advice.
"Don't go, Natalie," Grace had said weeping. "There's nothing
there, it will only hurt you."
But Natalie knew she had to in order to accept the reality of
it. To her surprise, the security code still worked, and she'd found
herself standing in a cold empty room bathed in golden sunlight.
He'd left nothing behind. Nothing. She had no idea if he was
alive or dead, or what had happened after she lost consciousness. As
she'd recuperated, odd fragments of conversation had found their way
into her mind. But nothing concrete, nothing that made any sense.
But standing in the loft, her memories began to coalesce.
Something about a peach. A memory of Nick leaning over
her in tears. LaCroix...
"Is it possible for a vampire to have faith?"
Natalie closed her eyes. She listened to the phrase echo
through her head. There were tears in his voice. Tears...and pain.
Who had he been talking to?
Oh, God. Had he been talking to LaCroix?
"You are my best friend..."
And then one last phrase surfaced.
"Damn you, Nicholas."
It had been LaCroix. Who else could it possibly have been?
Not much to go on, even if Natalie could be sure it wasn't
just hallucinations of her fevered mind. But she didn't think it was.
The emptiness of the loft reeked of LaCroix. Somehow, he had known to
come. Who knew what persuasions he'd applied to Nick.
Natalie had felt a deeper despair than she thought possible.
"Oh, Laura," Natalie whispered, "is this what you felt?" Suicide
seemed so alluring. Anything to end the pain and emptiness.
Anything.
It was then that the dam finally broke, and the tears began to
fall. She fell to the floor as if no strength existed within her
anywhere, and cried her heart out with a frightening intensity.
Exhaustion eventually dried her tears and she lay there empty and
hopeless. The sun withdrew and darkness fell on the world to join the
darkness of her mind as the day turned into night.
At last, cold and empty, she'd dragged herself off the floor
and walked to the elevator, her footsteps echoing like a death knell
in the silent room.
She left the loft for the last time. She hadn't looked back.
She couldn't. Then, since there was nothing else to do, she'd gone
home with suicide on her mind and sinking deep into her heart.
Into that incredible darkness and pain had come the oddest
experience--and a tiny ray of light. She had barely taken her coat
off, when her doorbell had rung. Natalie had taken a deep breath,
scrubbed at her eyes with her grubby hands and peered out her peephole
to see a man standing there. He had long dark curly hair, a large
mustache, and was wearing the most flamboyant coat she'd ever
seen. She had just decided not to answer the door, when he'd looked
directly at the peephole, as if knowing without any doubt she was on
the other side of the door.
"Dr. Lambert," he said quietly, "please open the door. I have
something for you."
At that moment, she'd realized how finely white and porcelain
smooth his skin was. A vampire. For a moment she wildly hoped he'd
come to take her life and misery away, and equally, she hoped he'd
come to take her to Nick. She opened the door, and looked into his
soft, velvet brown eyes, and gentle smile.
He stepped into her apartment, and introduced himself. "I'm
Feliks Twist," he said quietly. "I manage Nick's accounts. Today,
I'm doing some other errands for him."
"Where *is* he?" Natalie demanded frantically, practically
nose to nose with him, as she grabbed his lapels and unknowingly
crumpled them.
"I don't know," Feliks said, as he carefully and gently
removed her hands and held them comfortingly. "All I know is what he
said in his cover letter. I'm to give you this letter and make sure
that you are all right."
Her first stunned thought was relief at knowing Nick was
alive. Then all her pent-up fear and frustration broke loose.
Natalie stared at him, her eyes hardening. "All right? ALL
RIGHT! I'm not all right! Not until I find him." She shut up when
she realized she was screaming. She bit her lip and turned away.
"Dr. Lambert?" Feliks asked behind her.
Natalie shook her head, but he touched her shoulder and pulled
her around. She looked at him through tear-laden eyes, and he quietly
handed her a linen handkerchief, neatly pressed, and softly scented.
Natalie took it and blew her nose and wiped her eyes. She looked at
him helplessly. She didn't know what to do with the handkerchief.
"Keep it," he said briefly as if he could read her mind.
Feliks took her hand firmly in his and led her to the couch. He
pushed her into it's comfortable depth and sat beside her.
"I know this is difficult for you, but I think it will work a
little better if you take this one step at a time."
Natalie looked into his face and liked him. There was an
old-fashioned sweetness to him. She could see why Nick would trust
him. He was so unlike the vampires she had met. He was about as
dangerous looking as a teddy bear. She knew it was untrue, no vampire
was that harmless, but she suspected he came close.
She swallowed and nodded. "I'm sorry about that. Things are
a little out of control right now."
Feliks nodded and then pulled a plain white envelope out of
his voluminous pocket. Natalie couldn't help but notice that his
lapels were now crushed. Her fault, she feared.
He put the envelope carefully in her hand. "I don't know what
it says, but I do know he was very distraught. The letter I had from
him was barely readable--not at all Nicholas' style--but I do know
this. He wants you to know he cares more for you than anything in the
world. Remember that."
And then he stood and gave her a small bow. Natalie looked at
him in astonishment as he took her hand and kissed it, and vanished in
a puff of scented air.
Natalie gazed around the room, as if that would bring him
back, but he was gone. She was left with only the letter. One that
Natalie was sure she wouldn't like.
After a moment, she ripped it open and began reading.
"Natalie," it read. "My dearest, beloved, Natalie. I am so
sorry. I love you so much. But as much as I love you, the blood
calls stronger. I could not stop. The lure of your blood, the beauty
of your soul was my undoing.
"Faith, it would seem, is not enough, Natalie. The only
option before me as you lay there at my feet, drained and dying was to
let you die or bring you across. I could not bring you across. I
know what you desired, but I could not condemn you to this painful
existence. I chose death for both of us, but death was also
illusive--LaCroix intervened.
"I will not burden you with the details, but because of
LaCroix, we are both still alive. Just as I took the choice from you,
he took the choice from both of us.
"I had to leave. My control is gone--for now. Time will give
it back to me, but to be near you now, is impossible. Not if I want
you to live.
And now it comes down to this. I do want you to live. I want
you to be happy, to love, to have children, to have all of those
things. But if I remain, then there is only death and darkness. I
will not be able to stop myself from taking your blood. It was so
sweet, Natalie. It was filled with love for me, and my empty, lonely
soul could not get enough.
"I'm sorry for all the pain that this has caused and will cause.
I'm sorry, Natalie. But it is better this way. Let me go, Natalie.
Go on with your life.
"I know I promised to be with you, and I will. I will watch
over you, I will protect you, from evil, from pain, and from myself.
Please find happiness--for both of us.
"I love you, Nick"
Natalie read it, stunned. She'd would have cried if she
could, but shock held her in its sway, and nothing made sense.
Nothing. Everything went red and black and Natalie fainted.
Time does heal wounds, or so they say. Natalie wasn't
sure about that. It dulled the pain. It even scabbed over, but lift
the scab and the pain was still as real as ever. She was bleeding
from her very soul, and there was nothing anyone could do stop it.
"Would you like something more to drink?" the flight attendant
asked, distracting Natalie from her memories. Natalie shook her head,
and turned away. Why, tonight, did the past call to her so strongly.
She shoved it resolutely out of her head and pushed the pillow into
place. She really needed some rest. She closed her eyes and tried to
sleep. But in the darkness hiding behind her eyelids, her thoughts
began to unravel again, playing out the past with fevered intensity.
She'd hired a private investigator. That had been the first
step. The second had been to go to the Raven. Neither had been
exactly productive. The Raven had been empty, desolate, abandoned. A
for sale sign was plastered on the door. She'd wanted to pound on the
door and scream her frustration. But something inside her kept from
letting that last little bit of civilized behavior disappear.
The private investigator had taken longer to come up
empty-handed. But the results were the same. Nick Knight a.k.a.
Nicolas de Brabant had been a black hole. Not even her knowledge of
the de Brabant foundation had helped. It was an office with two
employees that administrated donations to charities. They had never
heard of Nicolas de Brabant.
While there had been a slim hope of finding him, Natalie had
kept from breaking, but the day, the investigator told her that there
were literally no leads, she'd felt something deep inside her
break--the last little hold she had on reality.
That night she'd sat in front of the TV and stared at a bottle
of sleeping pills. It seemed like the only thing left to do. Without
him, her life was a bitter, empty place. She couldn't go back to
being a medical examiner, and she didn't know if there was anything
she wanted to do. Life had no meaning without Nick.
She was just like Laura.
She poured a glass of Scotch to go with her pills.
Emptiness filled her. Even her pain was just a dull dark
aching throb.
She poured the pills out into her hand.
The bleakness was overwhelming.
She just couldn't go on.
She put the handful of pills to her mouth.
And the phone rang.
Natalie didn't bother to answer, but she stopped to listen as
the answering machine picked up--out of habit--she supposed. Why not?
she thought. No reason to leave any loose ends.
"Dr. Lambert? This is Dr. Kerry Chapman. I work for the
Sutherland Research Group. We met a couple of years ago at the
conference on genome research. I don't know if you remember me, but I
was really impressed with your expertise. I understand you've quit
your job. If, by any chance, you are available, we'd like to
interview you for a job in our R&D Labs. We are doing stuff right up
your alley. Give me a call as soon as possible at 555-3290. There
are some really terrific people on the team, and we'd love to have you
join us. I think you'd really like it. Thanks."
Natalie stared into space. She remembered the conference.
She'd gone there in search of answers to the anomalies in Nick's
blood. She'd talked to Chapman at length. Sutherland's was a
fascinating and very exclusive Research Lab. Among other things, they
were researching longevity issues. Funny. Once upon a time, she
would have jumped at the chance. Anything for Nick. But, hell, Nick
didn't care. He'd left her out of fear, out of misplaced thirteenth
century idolization or something. And right now, Natalie didn't even
want to live, let alone do research--especially when it reminded her of
Nick. She didn't want anything to do with anything that made her
think of Nick.
She stared at the pills in her hand. Damn him anyway. Why
did he have to leave her? He knew she felt like Laura. Why would he
ever think she would want to go on without him? What the hell was
there to go on for?
Slowly she brought the pills up to her mouth--and stopped.
The words of his letter whispered in her mind.
"I do want you to live. I want you to be happy, to love,
to have children, to have all of those things. But if I
remain, then there is only death and darkness."
Death and darkness. She stared at the pills. There was only
death and darkness. How could she be happy without him? What was the
point in going on? And suddenly another voice, another set of
whispered words were there, answering her
"Don't be foolish... Life is a gift..."
Natalie stopped, puzzled, trying to remember when she had
heard them. And who had said them. There was desperation in the
voice--deep desperation.
"... never been able to understand the logic in willfully
surrendering such a treasure. What is there to gain?
How dark can your existence be..."
And Natalie wondered exactly how dark her existence was. The
voice compelled her to. It's quiet pleading shook her to her core.
She stared at the pills. Her life was a gift, she supposed. Nick's
gift--however unwanted and despised. How would he feel if she did
this after he had walked away from any happiness he might find?
And then she realized what a sacrifice he had made to give her
a chance for a *normal, human* life. How unhappy must he be? And yet
somewhere, he was committed to watching over her, and keeping her
safe, however much that must hurt him.
Her life could never be as dark as Nick's was. And no matter
how dark, he kept going on. True, he wouldn't have this time without
LaCroix, but without LaCroix, she wouldn't be having this argument
with herself. She would be dead--and so would Nick.
And then she knew whose voice she was hearing. It was
LaCroix' pleading with Nick over her still and silent body in the
loft. Natalie laughed bitterly, and then began to weep. The pills
fell from her hand to the floor in a shower, and the glass crashed
down on top of them spilling the Scotch everywhere. And Natalie cried
with an intensity that shook her to her soul. She covered her face
with her hands and wept and wept and wept.
And her tears washed away some of her pain, and the healing
process began with the most bitter of ironies. LaCroix had stopped
her from killing herself. She knew he would find that most annoying
if he knew. She didn't know what his arguments had done for Nick, but
they had stopped her. Life was a gift. And she would be a fool to
throw it away because for one bitter moment there was nothing but
pain.
She knew better than most how the body and soul could heal
themselves, given time. Perhaps her existence wasn't quite that dark.
Maybe she could find the happiness Nick wanted her to find if she
stopped looking back and looked forward.
On a sigh, Natalie stumbled to her feet and went to bed. She
was asleep from sheer exhaustion as soon as her head hit the pillow.
Behind her in the living room, the Scotch and pills slowly dissolved
into a bubbling yellow mass that matted her carpet.
Sydney snuck up on it and sniffed it curiously. He snarled at
the smell and backed away. On a bound, he turned and ran for the
bedroom and buried himself under the covers beside Natalie, safe from
harm.
The next morning found Natalie soberly cleaning her living
room carpet and contemplating what she could do to start over. It was
when she listened to her phone messages that she knew what the first
step was. She called Kerry, and one thing led to another. For the
first time in three months, something sparked her interest. At that
moment, Natalie realized that there were other options. Maybe she
could make her life into something worthwhile again. And so it was
that two weeks later she'd started working at Sutherland's.
Natalie smiled at the thought. Oh, it hadn't been easy.
She'd cried herself to sleep for many months. But finally she had put
the past in the past and found the perspective to go on.
The last step in her initial healing process had been the
hardest, though. Because it had required her to take everything that
reminded her of Nick and get rid of it. She couldn't quite bring
herself to throw them away, so she had taken everything and put it in
a box and placed it in a bank vault for safe-keeping.
The last things she had put in had been the note, the journal,
and her only photo of them together.
She held the note for a long time, reading it over and over
again. Just one last time. She'd often contemplated how long it had
taken him to write that letter. It had been splotched with dark,
bloody stains. Nick's tears. When she'd tucked it away in her
journal, it had been further blurred by hers. Then she put the
journal in the box. Finally, she took the photo of them, and held it
with a shaking hand. The look in his face, the light and happiness of
that moment shone out. But it was a long time ago. Before LaCroix
had returned. Everything had gone wrong after LaCroix had returned.
They just hadn't realized it for a long time. Not until it was too
late.
With a sigh, Natalie put the photo in an envelope and placed
it on top. Then she shut the box, and put it in the bank vault. As
hard as it was, it was time to find a life without Nick. A life that
had meaning. She wasn't going to let it be as empty and meaningless
as Laura's. She was better than that.
Life, she thought ironically, is a gift. She had new friends,
a new job, a whole new life in the sun, and by golly, she was going to
make it work.
It had only been two months after she'd put the box in the
vault and six after the fateful night she'd almost committed suicide,
that Natalie met Steve. He'd run into her in the grocery store, and
been instantly smitten. She'd been amused and charmed, and her ego
felt good, but he wasn't Nick. She told him she was sorry, and he'd
melted away--to be replaced not too long after by Rick, and then Carl,
and then David.
She hadn't been able to figure out why she'd suddenly become
so popular. Sure she was trying to be more outgoing--get out of the
lab, do stuff, but she was still Natalie Lambert. And she'd always
been a little shy, a bit gawky with men, and certainly over their
heads conversation-wise. How many men, after all, really got off on
talking about cellular mitosis?
But David had been quite a revelation on the new and improved
popular-with-the-men Natalie Lambert. Boy, had he ever! When she'd
told him she just wasn't ready to be serious, he'd looked at her with
an odd look, and said softly, "Nick wants you to find love, Natalie.
Let him go."
Natalie had sat up and stared at him. "What?" she'd asked
finally.
"What, what?" David asked confused.
"What did you just say?" Natalie demanded.
David shook his head, not sure. "I don't know..."
And that was when Natalie realized that Nick was whammying
every eligible, qualifying, man he found, and sending them into her
path. Of all the cheeky nerve!
She was absolutely flabbergasted. That was the only way she
could describe it. She didn't know how he was doing it, but he was.
She met them in laundromats, grocery stores, malls, gas stations, on
sidewalks, and anywhere else she might be. They would see her and do
a double-take. She became very familiar with the symptoms.
They'd ease over to her, and start up a conversation,
obviously attracted to her. She never got away before they would ask
her out. Never.
Natalie couldn't figure out how it worked. She tried. There
were certain things that seemed to be core to the spell, or
hypnotic-induced behavior, or whatever you wanted to call it. Once
they saw her, they were compelled to ask her out. Secondly, they
would persist for three dates. After that, if she said no, they would
disappear, the spell broken. But only after three dates.
Some of the men were fun and wonderful and enjoyable, but some
of them were so...awful that Natalie started meeting them just for
drinks or for an afternoon walk in the park, snything that she could
shorten up and run away from when they were definitely *not* her type.
Somehow the spell that Nick worked, pushed them only so far.
If the attraction persisted beyond three dates, it was because of
their own growing interest--their own choice. Nick wasn't forcing
them into loving her, only into meeting her and getting to know her.
Kind of him, she supposed, but she could have punched him out
for it. She didn't want them, she wanted Nick. Dammit.
It must have taken a lot of work to weave that kind of spell.
Why couldn't he put the work and effort into making it work for her
and Nick? Why couldn't he just show up?
But Nick never did show up, just the variety-pak guys. That
was what she started calling them. The variety-pak. And they were
definitely a variety.
They came in tall, short, medium, skinny, wide, and regular.
There were red, blonde, brunette, black, pink (yeah, punk pink, too)
haired guys. Some wore it short, others long. One had favored a
military buzz, another a mohawk. And their jobs ranged from
stock-broker, race-car driver, forest-ranger to millionaire (no
kidding!). "Get a little discrimination, Nick," Natalie moaned after
the pink mohawk. "Please!"
He wasn't listening. The only thing for sure about them was
Natalie felt safe. All of them were kind, and nice, and wouldn't hurt
a fly--let alone a slightly shell-shocked ex-medical examiner who'd
been mortally wounded by an emotionally abused vampire. Was it part
of the whammy, or did he just interview them with a deep mind probe to
make sure they were kind to women no matter what the aggravation?
She'd like to know, it was the scientist in her she supposed, for the
journal, just because. But Nick wasn't big on personal communication,
only on sending her one man after another.
Everybody at Sutherland's was impressed with the stream (and
variety) of men flowing through Natalie's life. Several women pulled
her aside and asked her what her secret was. Natalie would just
smile. "I have a fairy Godfather," she'd say. "He keeps me well
supplied with men--just so he can practice up on his supernatural
powers."
Most smiled and laughed at her joke. But it was no joke.
Natalie had a very guilty fairy Godfather. A blood-sucking,
emotionally cramped and frightened one, who wanted more than anything
to see her happy. Stupid vampire. The thing that would most likely
make her happy was his personal presence. He was truly the most
clueless man she'd met.
After a couple of years, a few awards for brilliant research
work, a new house (thanks to that private-sector salary), and a lot of
time and water under the bridge, Natalie found that the pain had eased
and life did go on.
And then she met Allen. Was he one of the variety-pak? She
didn't know. She didn't want to know. (Nick had gotten better, and
much more subtle in his spell-weaving. Practice does make perfect,
you know.) It didn't matter. Nick had made up his mind, and that was
that. So Natalie moved on, too.
She met Allen at a nightclub. She'd gone there with a couple
of her co-workers one night. They'd been celebrating a breakthrough
and had been well on their way to being smashed when Allen asked her
for a dance.
"Sure," Natalie said with a slight slur, and slid into his
arms. From then on, they had pretty well been inseparable. She had
more fun with Allen than anybody since...well, Nick. Not only that,
he was a good listener, and if he didn't understand what she did
exactly, he did understand research. He worked for a think-tank, and
was a brilliant analyst in his own right.
They had fun, so much fun. Their razor sharp minds met, and
matched. Allen introduced Natalie to skiing, water and snow, and she
had introduced him to the symphony and excessive movie watching. They
became Toronto Raptor fans just for the fun of it. And Natalie
knew Allen was falling in love with her.
Natalie was as close as she ever had ever been to being in
love with anyone, with Allen. If only Nick wasn't still in there,
occupying a huge place in her heart. She didn't tell Allen about
Nick. How could she? What could she possibly say that would explain
Nick? In fact, she had never mentioned him to anybody in her new
life. And since it so rarely intersected with her old life, it had
never come up.
But Allen loved her, and Natalie was happy. She knew Allen
would be good to her--he was certainly good for her--and she was
happy. She let herself drift on the winds and tides of Allen's love.
She knew he would propose, she could see it in his eyes, so one night,
she sat down alone with another bottle of Scotch. Scotch and serious
moments in her life seemed to go together. She drank the whole thing
down while she worked through things from every angle. She passed out
in the middle of trying to decide whether it was morally wrong to
marry someone you loved only second best.
"Oh, double-damn," Natalie moaned when she tried to move the
next morning. Her arms were both asleep, and ached and tingled as she
shook them. Then she felt sick. Really sick. She ended up throwing
up on the kitchen floor. She lay there, her head on the cool tile and
remembered her last coherent thought from the night before.
"Is it wrong to marry someone when you love them only
second-best?" And then she realized, she did loved Allen. She'd
never realized that before. She loved him. Not the same as she loved
Nick, not with that passion, for it was impossible. Nick was Nick.
But she loved Allen. Nick had made her senses explode. Allen never
would, but he could make her heart flip over when he kissed her, and
she felt good in her arms.
"Fine," Natalie croaked, and dragged herself to her feet.
"I'll marry Allen, jus..jus as soon as he asksss me."
And she did.
Her wedding day had dawned clear and bright. Natalie knew,
because she'd watched the dawn after a long and sleepless night. Sure
of marrying Allen, she still mourned Nick's absence from her life.
And for Nick, she watched the sunrise. The sunrise on the beginning
of her new life--and the end of her hopes of ever seeing Nick again.
The sky had been full of white and gold clouds, set against a
dark blue sky. It had been beautiful. She stood on her porch and
watched it with a fevered intensity.
And as dawn became day, she'd dropped rose petals onto the
morning breeze.
"Wish me luck, Nick," she murmured. "I'm going to try and
have that life you wanted me to have." She let the breeze blow over
her whisking through her thoughts. A tear slid slowly down her face.
The last one she would shed for him for a long time.
"Goodbye, Nick," Natalie said finally, and wiping the tear
away, turned into the house to prepare for the day's events, and
joining her life with Allen's. She didn't think about him again that
day, or for many more, as she moved forward into her new life.
When she opened her presents, all ten tons of them, she found
an envelope from the de Brabant Foundation. Allen, his arm around
her, had puzzled over it.
"Nat," he asked, "did we invite somebody from the Brabant
Foundation? I don't recognize it, I guess it's must be yours."
"What?" Natalie said, unbelieving. And Allen had recognized
her astonishment.
"What's the deal, Nat?"
"Let me open the envelope first, Allen," Natalie said, and
ripped it open, somewhere between total joy and anger that Nick was
actually making contact with her. His timing was so...completely
Nick.
It contained a cheque for $5,000, and a lovely cover note
which allowed Natalie to gracefully lie her way out of it.
"Ohmigosh...," Nat said as she held out the cheque, waving it
like a flag. "It's for five grand. I can't believe it!"
"Who's giving us that much money, Nat?" Allen said nuzzling
her neck, while his hands slid around her waist. He took the note
from her and read the message:
"Thanks for all your help with the foundation. I've never
forgotten all the time and effort you gave into researching my illness.
Though all avenues of research proved ultimately unsuccessful, your
care and kindness has never been forgotten. May you find all the
happiness you deserve. Sincerely, N. de Brabant."
Allen looked at Natalie, "What research?"
Natalie shook her head, took a deep breath, and lied with
aplomb, "Years ago, when I was with Metro, I helped the foundation,
and Mr. de Brabant was really impressed. After the case, we got
talking and he told me about his illness. He has a really rare
disease, that was similar to something I had been researching, so I
spent a lot of time looking into it for him. We did find some good
avenues to follow. But like he says, it was unsuccessful, and he's
limited in what he can do physically. It's kind of sad. I guess this
is his way of saying thanks. I'd forgotten all about it."
She mentally rolled her eyes, and was grateful that if Nick
was going to send her presents, at least he gave her a good cover
story to go with it. But she wished he hadn't. It just made her
heart ache all over again. She leaned against Allen and closed her
eyes, and breathed in Allen's aftershave. She was not going to let
Nick ruin her marriage.
But she hung on to the card, she just couldn't bring herself
to throw away it away. It had a telephone number on it. Somehow she
didn't think Nick would give her a telephone number if he didn't
intend for her to use if she needed help. It might be as close as
she would ever get to him, and someday she just might have need for a
vampire's special skills. So Natalie tucked it away and began her
life with Allen.
At 1:00 a.m. on a blustery Thursday morning, with the wind
screaming and the rain thundering down so loud you could hear it even
in the obstetrics ward of Mercy Faith, Natalie gave birth to a
beautiful little baby girl. At 6 lbs. and 7 oz., little Cathy had a
beautiful mass of dark brown hair and a very healthy set of lungs to
let the world know she was definitely here.
Allen held her hand and stroked her sweat-soaked hair and told
Natalie how much he loved her. "She's beautiful, Nat," he whispered,
"just like you."
Natalie grimaced. She felt downright sweaty and ugly at the
moment, but otherwise quite happy. And when they placed her baby in
her arms, she felt such a surge of emotion through her, that tears
welled up in her eyes. She'd never been happier. Life was, indeed, a
precious gift.
A few hours later, when the pills they'd given her wore off,
Natalie woke as the dawn slipped in the window. The sky was a
beautiful dark blue, and the clouds a heavy gold-limned white and
yellow, and Natalie's thoughts slid to Nick. She was fulfilling the
second part of his directive. Now she had a child, one of many,
perhaps.
Fleetingly, Natalie wished this little girl was Nick's. She
couldn't help it. As much as she loved Allen, a part of her yearned
more and more for Nick, for his dark, edgy moodiness and the spark of
passion in his eyes. She yearned for his deep bronzed gold burnished
hair, and his humor, compassion and understanding. Wishing for him,
Natalie felt as if she'd betrayed Allen. Guilt stung her. And she
bit her lip as she stared into the brilliant dawn.
Yet she couldn't help but think how Nick would have treasured
this moment. Life meant so much to him, and he'd sacrificed any
happiness he might have, so that she could have children. She finally
understood that. And she wouldn't trade her little Cathy for anything.
Then the idea bubbled up from some deep, hidden corner of
her mind. She turned it around for a long time, and finally decided
that no matter what, this was something she just *had* to do.
"Allen," Natalie said some three long weeks later, as they
discussed God-parents. "I've been thinking. Remember Mr. de
Brabant--that sent us the five..."
"...grand for our wedding. Do I ever," Allen finished with a
grin. "What about him?"
"I'd like to ask him to be a God-parent," Natalie said.
"Why?"
"Oh, I guess, because he was so sad and so terribly ill. He
doesn't have anyone. He's really very lonely. I know he'll probably
never, ever visit or anything. But if he decided to accept, he'd be a
the kind that would help with education, and contacts as they get
older."
Allen just looked at her like she was a little nuts.
Natalie rushed on, "And he'd probably send them great gifts.
It's not so much for Cathy, but for him. Just a little of the future
for him to invest in. We can still ask Tom and Jill. They'd be the
personal touch, but he'd be the mysterious benefactor. I think it
would mean a lot to him."
Allen shrugged. "Sure, why not? If he gives them money,
it'll help out a lot. 'Specially with college. It is not getting
cheaper you know."
Natalie smiled. "I know."
And so she called, with her heart pounding in her fingers and
toes, that number stashed away two years before.
"De Brabant Foundation," the disembodied voice said, making
Natalie just about lose her grip on the phone.
"Uh...this is Natalie Graham. Uh, Natalie *Lambert* Graham.
I, uh..."
"Ah, just one moment, Dr. Lambert," the voice said, and the
phone went silent. Clicks rippled through the line. Click.
ClickClickClick. Clickety Click. "Dr. Lambert," a pleasant
woman said. "This is Linda Millhouse. What can I do for you?"
"Umm. I received this phone number when I married as a place
where I could call for emergencies and..."
"Yes, Doctor. I have orders to help you in any way possible."
"Oh," Natalie said faintly. "Well, actually this isn't an
emergency or anything. It's more of an announcement."
"Really," Linda said with amusement.
"Yes, I'd like you to give him a message."
There was a moment of silence.
"You do know who I'm talking about, don't you?" Natalie asked
nervously.
"Yes. I was just a little startled. I don't believe this was
ever on the list of possibilities, actually. Well, they can't think
of every contingency, now, can they?" Linda laughed. "What's the
message?"
Natalie laughed at that. Trust Nick not to think she might
call just to tell him the good news. "I had a little girl on February
17th. Her name is Catherine Louise Graham. She weighed in a six
pounds and seven ounces. She's got a lot of lovely dark brown hair,
and a cry you can hear clear in Alaska. And I want him to know, if he
doesn't already. It's really important to me.
"Tell him," Natalie continued, "that I'm having that family he
wanted me to have. I'm living the life he gave me. I'm not always
sure it's the life I would have chosen if he'd given me the choice,
but it's a good life and I'm happy.
"And last of all, I'd like him to be her Godfather, and watch
over her. I know he can do that better than anybody. Please ask him
to accept this opportunity. I know he can't be there in person, but
he can guard her better than anyone else I know."
Linda took a deep breath. "Oh, Dr. Lambert, this is
wonderful. Congratulations. I'll be sure to send this along straight
away. I'll let you know the answer as soon as I receive it."
"Thanks," Natalie said softly, tears forming. Before she
could stop herself, she added, "and tell him I miss him, still."
Linda was silent. "Dr. Lambert?" she began a little
hesitantly.
"Oh, call me Natalie," Natalie said.
"Natalie. I'm a little in the dark about your relation with
Mr. de Brabant. In fact, I've never met him. I don't know anybody
who has, here. We have several people who are what we call special
case people, that he wants us to take care of, but you know something?
You're the first who has ever seemed to have first hand knowledge of
him. It just took me a bit by surprise. We'd begun to think he
didn't really exist."
"Oh," Natalie said firmly, "he exists all right. If you ever
met him, you would never forget him." She paused for a minute, and
added, "I certainly can't. Anyway, just tell him. And then we'll see
what kind of fireworks we get. Thanks, Linda. I have a feeling we're
going to get to know each other quite well."
"Maybe you're right," Linda agreed, and Natalie hung up.
"Well," Natalie muttered as she picked Cathy up in her arms,
"you've done it now."
Three weeks later, Natalie received a phone call from Linda.
"Natalie? This is Linda Millhouse with the de Brabant
Foundation. I have very good news for you. Mr. de Brabant has agreed
to be Cathy's Godfather. And the first order of business has been to
set up a trust fund for her. I understand he's very excited about
this."
"Oh..." Natalie said. She didn't think she could speak, for
the tears crowding into her throat.
"Congratulations, Natalie. I think you're the first thing he's
responded to personally in all the time I've been here."
Natalie sat on the back porch of her suburban house and
watched the sunrise the next day. Allen came out and sat beside her,
grumpily sleepy in his sweats. April was still cold at this time of
the morning.
"What's the deal, sweetie?" he asked putting his arm around
her.
"I just wanted to watch the sunrise," Natalie said, leaning
against him. The sun turned the clouds a beautiful golden pink as
they watched.
"Hmmm," Allen said nibbling on her ear.
"Oh, by the way, I heard from Mr. de Brabant, through his
foundation, yesterday. He's delighted, and he's set up a trust fund
for Cathy."
"Really," Allen said in surprise.
"Yeah, they said it's the first time in years that he's taken
a personal interest. I guess he's lonely."
"Well, how much is the trust fund?" Allen asked.
"Oh, honestly, is that all you think about? Money?"
"No. I think about sex, too." Allen said getting serious with
her neck.
"So I see," Natalie said with a giggle. "I don't...know.
Hmpsffsh...."
"What?" Allen asked when he moved his lips from hers.
"I don't know how much the fund is. They're sending papers."
"Mmmmph. Good," Allen said and applied himself to kissing her
thoroughly.
A week later, she'd received a box full of gifts, and the
papers for Cathy's trust fund. There had been no personal note,
though. Nothing from Nick, despite her hopes.
Then on the morning she'd gone out to take Cathy for her
six-month check-up, she'd found a envelope with her name on it in the
car. She recognized the writing immediately, and ripped it open with
shaking hands.
"Natalie," it read, "Thank you for letting me share in your
life. I will always watch over and protect your daughter. Just as I
do you. With all my love, Nick."
She felt a little dizzy at the contact. The first contact
since that night in the loft. She felt loved and cared for in a
way that no one but Nick had ever been able to make her feel. She
looked around and wondered if he was somewhere nearby watching. Then
she felt like a fool. It was broad daylight. He wouldn't be here,
but still, he had been here sometime in the night. He had been
here...
She stopped at the bank that day, and opened her security box
for the first time in over two years, and added the note to the hidden
collection of data. This was something that she could never let Allen
know about. And once again, she felt oddly guilty, as if she was
having an affair. She shook her head at life's incongruity and went
on about her business.
Holidays and birthdays brought presents after that. Allen was
amused. The trust fund had been his favorite part. It would put
Cathy through college. And Allen couldn't have been happier about
that.
After that, she'd called Linda often with updates on the first
tooth, the first crawl, the wonderfully wobbly first step--all the
important moments. Cathy, in her mind, was as much Nick's as she was
Allen's.
When Greg had been born, she'd called again.
With a firm and happy finger she'd punched the number in.
"De Brabant Foundation."
"Yes, Natalie Graham. I'm..."
"Just one moment, please." Click. ClickClickClick. Click.
"Natalie!" Linda said. "So good to hear from you. What can I
do for you?"
"Linda, I've had a beautiful little boy. He hit the world at
7 pounds and 4 ounces, and he's got an attitude."
"Congratulations, Natalie. I didn't think he was supposed to
be here for another week. What happened?"
And Nick in all his generosity, set up another trust fund.
Allen looked at her a little funny. Natalie told him the truth. She
never talked to or saw Mr. de Brabant. She hadn't even asked him to
do anything for Greg.
Allen decided to call. He had a long chat with Linda and came
away satisfied. His Natalie, it seemed had made de Brabant's life
much better. He was a generous man, not only to Natalie but to many
people. It was just his nature, it wasn't anything personal or
specific necessarily to Natalie. It was just the way de Brabant was.
So the gifts were doubled, and Cathy at five superciliously
told three year old Greg, that they *always* got special presents for
their birthdays. "Uncle Bant always sent them something."
Natalie by sheer chance got it on video, and sent a copy to
Linda, who sent it to Nick. And Nick left her another note.
"I've never felt like part of a real family before, Nat. I
don't know how to thank you for such generosity."
Generosity, hah! Natalie thought. Her heart was more and
more pulled towards him. Time and distance, nor a husband and
children had made her heart's desire dim. It only grew stronger.
Often, she thought it was because he was unobtainable. He had
always been unobtainable. Just beyond reach. And what she couldn't
have was the only thing she truly wanted. Frantically, in denial, she
threw herself deeper into her children and her husband and job trying
to deny the bitter reality. Her life in the sun was only half of what
it should have been.
And for a while it worked. But on their ninth wedding
anniversary, Allen took her to a little B&B, and in the passion of the
night, she found herself imagining once again, that it was Nick in her
arms. In denial of that truth, she seduced her husband and made love
to him, like she was starving in the desert. Afterward as she lay in
Allen's arms spent, she felt so guilty. Why couldn't she just let it
go?
Whatever the reason, whatever her guilt, the night's passion
bore fruit. Natalie found she was pregnant again. Nine months later
she had a beautiful little boy.
She named him Nicholas.
She closed her eyes and begged God's forgiveness for her
sins. But she couldn't let Nick go. She couldn't. So she named her
son after her lost, illusive love.
This time, she hesitated to call Linda, but finally a week
after Nick's birth, she called.
"Linda, it's Natalie," she said when the call went through.
"My baby arrived last Sunday. He's so beautiful. Blue eyes. A
little bit of brown hair. It looks like it's curly. You'd love him."
"Well, tell me the vital details," Linda demanded.
"Seven pounds, 2 ounces," Natalie said proudly, "and 22 inches
long. He's so peaceful. He's such a good baby. I just love him."
"So what's his name," Linda asked.
"Nicholas," Natalie whispered softly. "I named him Nicholas.
After him. I hope he doesn't mind."
There was silence on the line. The Linda spoke quietly.
"I've never pretended to understand what goes on between you and
Mr. de Brabant. But it's obviously a lot deeper than I imagined.
I've thought for a long time you two must have loved each other, but I
couldn't figure out why it didn't work when he cares so much about
you--and you call so often to pass on news. What happened, Natalie.
I won't tell anybody."
"I know you won't, Linda," Natalie said, "but it's not my
story to tell, it's Nick's. Things just weren't meant to be. It
wasn't because we didn't love each other. But there were just too
many strikes against us. Nick would give up every cent he owned if he
could change things. But he can't, and I can't. I'm just glad we
have this bridge at least. You'll never know how important this has
been to me, Linda."
And Nick had been overwhelmed at his namesake. He set up a
third trust fund and sent a truckload of goodies for Nick as well as
his envious siblings.
Nick also sent another note--the third in ten years. It was
short, but it made her weep for Nick for the first time in many years.
"Thank you, Natalie, for giving me such a great honor. I'll
guard him as if he was my own. Yours forever, Nick."
Two days later it joined the other notes in her secret bank
box.
And so the years went by, and for each event, somehow,
someway, she always found the time to make a phone call. Linda was
always there, always friendly, caring, and concerned. They never met,
but Natalie grew to love Linda, too. Linda was her link to Nick and
overtime, they became close friends.
Sometimes Linda would ask questions that made Natalie pause
and remember how many secrets she had in her life. Linda would have
loved to know about Nick and Natalie's relationship, but Natalie
remained cautious. No sense in having the enforcers come down on her
now, after all this time. She would hate to see Linda die because she
couldn't keep her secrets.
Such an odd life Natalie led. A secret life behind Allen,
unbeknownst to the children. And yet it had given her comfort to know
that Nick was watching over her. But she still intended to punch his
lights out if she ever saw him again. They should have been together.
And they weren't. He had promised. But Natalie knew he was close, he
was still watching over her, and she continued to look for him.
Eventually, it began to wear on her marriage. Allen grew
distant, and Natalie knew it was her fault, because her heart wasn't
there for him like it should have been. She loved Allen, but she
wasn't in love with him like she should have been. It made her heart
ache for all that should have been and was not. More guilt to chalk
up to that night when she'd so badly misstepped with Nick. If she
hadn't pushed him, things might be so different. And yet, she
wouldn't trade her children for anything. It gave her a migraine when
she started to think about it.
Then there was the night Allen came home drunk. Not the first
time, but he seemed to do it more and more often. After twenty years of
marriage, Natalie knew he was unhappy, lost, and uncertain about where
he stood. She couldn't help it. That particular night, she
discovered him floundering on the floor like a fish on dry land. His
equilibrium smashed by a long night of drinking.
"Allen," Natalie said softly, trying to pick him up off the
floor and get him to the bedroom. "Come on, Allen, try moving your
feet. The bedroom isn't far."
Allen had seemed to focus on her briefly, then leaning heavily
on her made it to the bed. He lay there, watching her find aspirin
and water for him. When she came to hand it to him, he shook her away
disgruntled. Then he looked into her eyes and asked the question it
had taken him years to form. Gratitude had given way to irritation,
then suspicion.
"Who is he, Nat?" Allen asked, his eyes suddenly alert and
focused. "Who the hell is he?"
Natalie looked at him puzzled, not sure what he was asking or
where the question was coming from. "What are you talking about,
Allen?"
"I'm talking about the man who holds your heart--and always
has. It's taken me a long time to figure it out. But I'm only second
with you. I always have been, haven't I? I just want to know who he
is? Is it de Brabant? He's the only one I can think of. The trust
funds, the presents, God... what a fool I've been...," Allen trailed
off and ran his hand through his thinning hair.
Natalie stared at him, and knew that at last, she was indeed
paying yet again for that chance meeting on her examining table.
She sat down and took a deep breath. "Allen, I'm not having
an affair with anyone..."
"I know," Allen said irritably. "You've always been loyal,
you've always been here--at least in body. I'm talking about your
head--your heart. It's never been here, has it, Nat?"
"That's not true, Allen," Natalie whispered. "I love you,
Allen. I loved you when I married you."
"But not as much as him," he said, anger on his face.
Natalie decided there was no point lying now. Her marriage
had been suffering for years.
"No. Not as much as him. But you know what, Allen? You and
I have shared more, loved more, had more, than he and I ever did. I
never made love with him. And I came to this marriage with a whole
heart determined to love you. I had put him behind me. I've never
tried to compare you..."
"But you did anyway," Allen finished with a sign. He rolled
over and buried his face in the pillow.
Natalie closed her eyes. A tear slowly slipped out from under
her lashes. Allen turned his head and watched. Tears filled his
eyes. "I just don't know what to do, Nat. I don't know how to
compete with a ghost. Somebody who isn't there, and yet is.
"Why did you ask him to be Cath's Godfather? Just to keep him
in your life?"
Natalie opened her eyes and looked at Allen. "No. It was to
give him a reason to live. A reason to go on. I just didn't want him
to quit trying. And I was afraid he would...because I nearly did."
Allen sat up and stared at her. "What the hell happened. If
he was so damned important, why didn't you stay with him?"
"It wasn't my choice," Natalie said softly, "and it wasn't
exactly his, either. Nick took it away from me, and La.., and
somebody else took it away from Nick." Trembling, Natalie looked at
Allen. "It's complicated, it's ugly, and it's..."
"Something you should've told me." Allen said brutally.
"Something I couldn't tell you. It was, and *is* too
dangerous. Allen, I've not seen or talked to Nick in all our married
life. I haven't seen him--not once since the last night I saw him,
and that was years before we met. And that night I nearly lost my
life. I woke up in a hospital. Everyone said it was a miracle I
lived. And it was. I should've died, but I didn't. I used to spend
a lot of time trying to figure out why I lived. I finally came up
with a reason--a possibility--for why I survived, but that's neither
here nor there.
"The point is, knowing Nick put my life in danger, and
eventually nearly took it. And that same night I think Nick nearly
died, too. I'll never know, because I *never* saw him again. I had
one note three months later, telling me to find my life and forget
about him. The next time I heard from him was at our wedding. He
just wanted me to know he hadn't forgotten me. And it was then I
guess, that I realized I would never truly forget him. I'm sorry,
Allen. I do love you."
"Well, Natalie, it's not enough. I don't want to be
second-best. I don't want...," Allen trailed off and turned away. "I
don't know what I want anymore."
With a sigh he lay back on the pillow and closed his eyes.
Natalie watched his face go slack as the alcohol he'd consumed
pulled him into drugged sleep.
She took his hand and held it. "I'm sorry, Allen," she
whispered. "Forgive me. I just didn't know that his hold would
become stronger over time. I just thought eventually I'd forget him,
and it would become a dream, a faded memory. But something like
that...I guess it's not possible. Once you've known magic, you can't
live without it. And it's like that. Now that I know vampires exist,
the rest of the world is a pale shadow. It always has been."
Natalie curled up next to Allen and wept silently at the
fissures that continued to spread in her life, all because she knew
that vampires existed. Especially one beautiful but flawed lost
soul--Nicolas de Brabant, Knight Errant--and her one true soulmate.
Night had turned to day, but it had been the final turning
point for her and Allen. From then on, things had slowly fallen
apart. He had an affair--well at least the one she had learned about.
It had hurt, because she had tried so hard after that to put him
first, and the more she tried, the more he turned away. For Allen
could not accept the love she had for him; he craved the love she
could not give.
Finally, she had given in to the inevitable as he flaunted his
affair rather flagrantly in her face. And hurt more deeply than she
could have believed, she had kicked him out of the house after he
brought his much-more-than-a-secretary home with him and made love
with her in their bed.
Natalie, arriving home early because she felt ill that day,
found them in bed. Anger had overflowed finally, and Natalie had let
it all out. It was another turning point because Allen seemed to
realize what a mistake he'd made. Suddenly he wanted to try again,
but Natalie, after years of trying so hard, had nothing left to give in
the face of such open contempt for her, and she told him to leave.
He'd tried to mend it, but it had truly been too late, years
too late, no, decades. The cracks, the tiny fissures had spread beyond
her ability to control. The gap was too wide. They both needed to
start over, start anew, and make a better life.
Luckily all three children were grown and gone. Cathy had
been married just a year, and though hurt, was far away, and very
happy at the time. She adjusted without having to see the ugliness
and pain of the separation and divorce.
Greg, however, had been angry, like a bull in a china shop.
He'd tried to change things, put it back together all by himself. He
blamed Natalie, believing she could have fixed it by just forgiving
his father. But Greg couldn't put it back together for them, and
something in him had hardened as a result. Natalie regretted it
deeply.
Nick, on the other hand, had been home weekends during the
disintegration, only a year into his college education, and he had
understood far more than the Greg or Cathy. He'd been her support
through the rough times. They'd talked far into the night on many
occasions, and Nick accepted both his parents for who they were far
more easily as a result.
He'd asked only once what had happened. Natalie had told him
very briefly that it was her fault. "I loved somebody else before your
father, and I never forgot him. Your Dad unconsciously knew and felt
he was second-best, and eventually it broke the marriage." She looked
at Nick clear-eyed and said one final thing. "Sometimes you meet
people and have experiences that cast such a bright light so far into
your life, that nothing else seems quite real after that. And that is
what happened to me. If you should meet someone like that, don't let
it go, no matter what, because your life is a shadow of what it could
be, ever after. No matter how hard you try."
"Mom," Nick asked reasonably, "how do you recognize something
like that, though?"
Natalie stared out into the night, up at the silver-white
moon. "You'll just know. I doubt it will happen, because it's a once
in million chance, that kind of thing. But you'll know, because
you'll never be able to look at reality the same way again. You'll
wake up, and everything will be different. Everything. And I'm not
talking about feeling giddily happy because you are in love, Nick.
You'll look around and wonder about everything you ever learned.
You'll question the truth of everything in life. You'll just know."
Nick put his arm around her, touched by the intensity of her
words. He longed to ask about the man, the past, and what had
happened, but he sensed the wall there, and contented himself with
just holding her, and accepting her words.
Life did go on. Shakily. But it did go on. Natalie had not
passed on anything about her divorce to Linda until it was final.
"Hello, Linda," Natalie said quietly.
"Nat? What's wrong?" Linda asked, recognizing the weariness
in Natalie's voice.
"I got a divorce. It became final last month. I just thought
I should let you know. Just in case. I'm not sure he needs to know.
Knowing Nick, he probably already knows. If he doesn't, well I think
I'd prefer to leave it that way. Let him think I'm okay. But I just
had to let you know."
"Oh, Natalie," Linda said. "I'm so sorry. Why didn't you say
anything?"
"I don't know," Natalie said. "I guess I wasn't really ready
to admit my life was in such bad shape. It's been falling apart for
years. We just finally decided to clear out the wreckage and let it
go. Funny thing is, though, it still hurts. I always thought I could
make it work. And I couldn't."
Linda had listened as Natalie poured out her pain one last
time. It was the final step to healing. It was time to move on, once
again. Life didn't end just because you closed a door. Another one
always seemed to open sooner or later.
Natalie dated a sweet man she met in church. She hadn't
gone to church for years. After the divorce, she found a renewed
interest in her spiritual life, and started attending a local church.
Greg had not been happy when she'd started dating Lyle Cromar.
He'd dropped by to find her exchanging a rather simple kiss with Lyle.
The look on his face had made her want to burst out laughing, but
she'd refrained from doing anything rash until Lyle left.
"Mom!" Greg said angrily, loudly, "who the hell was that? And
why was he kissing you like a...," words failed him.
"Like a what, Greg? Whore? Is that what you were thinking?
Grow up, Greg. I'm still a human being. I'm not dead. I have
feelings and passions, and you'll pardon me if I spend some time
expressing them in a healthy manner. I suggest you go out and do the
same. Stop trying to manage my life. It's doing just fine. You live
your life and I'll live mine."
She'd stalked past him into the house and slammed the door.
Greg hadn't come in for a good fifteen minutes, and even then it took
him five minutes of stammering around to apologize.
Things had been better between them after that. Natalie
guessed she should have told him off sooner.
Then last year, Nick had been badly injured in a car accident.
Natalie sat for long hours in ICU staring at Nick's face. Her
precious child, lying still and white. She remembered all the special
moments. He'd been pure joy from the day he'd been born. Well,
except for the terrible two's and three's and four's, and she really
ought to count the year he turned fourteen, but hey, other than that,
he'd been perfect.
Okay, almost perfect. Tears slipped down her face as she
touched his hand. "Nick," she whispered, "hang in there..."
His face was closed and blank as he lay silently on the bed.
His face was never this still. Nick had such a wonderful sense of
humor. He'd had her laughing from the day he'd been born. Even
during the divorce. He'd even been the buffer between her and Greg
since the divorce, and she had loved him for that. Nick understood
Natalie far better than Greg. Nick was very much like Natalie, while
Greg was pure Allen. Cathy was the only one that had been a
reasonable mixture of the two of them. Obviously she and Allen hadn't
been very good at combining the gene pool...
Oh yes, Nick was special.
The doctors hadn't been encouraging, and her insurance would
only go so far. Natalie made another decision. She picked up the
phone and dialed the number burned in her memory.
"De Brabant Foundation..."
"Yes, this is Natalie Graham," Natalie said softly.
"One moment, Dr. Graham," and then the phone went silent. The
days of clicks were long past as technology had changed. Soft music
kept her company while she waited.
"Hello, Natalie," Linda said cheerfully, "what can I do for
you?"
"Linda," Natalie said in a quivery voice. "My son Nick, he's
been in a car accident. He needs better care and I don't have the
money. The insurance..."
She didn't get any farther.
"What hospital is he at, Natalie?" Linda asked.
"Mercy Faith," Natalie gulped.
"Don't worry about a thing. The bills will be taken care of,
and we'll send in all the specialists he needs. Who is the primary
care physician?"
"Dr. Thomas Whittaker," Nat said.
"I'll take it from here. You just hold his hand and
concentrate on Nick. We'll take care of everything else."
"Thank you...," Natalie said and hung up.
That was when Greg had begun to get suspicious. He watched in
amazement, the parade of specialists that had taken care of Nick,
grimly surveyed the private room, and carefully examined the flowers
for evidence. He looked at everything.
"How are you paying for this, Mom?" he asked finally. "How
can you afford a private room, the doctors? All of this?"
Natalie had looked at him calmly. "It's taken care of."
"How?" Greg shouted. Natalie hated him in this mode. It was
his 'I'm the man, I'm in charge' mode.
"That's none of your business," Natalie said tartly. "I've
taken care of it."
"With what, Mom? You aren't made of money. The insurance
program doesn't cover this kind of care. Dad doesn't have much,
because he's spent it on that bimbo, Brenda."
"Brittany," Natalie corrected absently.
"Whatever. He doesn't have the money, you don't have the
money, so what'd you do, rob a bank?"
Natalie stood up as tall and straight as she could and looked
up into her angry son's eyes. "It's none of your damn business,
Greg." And then she had walked out. She and Greg were never good at
confrontation. She really ought to have known better. She should
have come up with an answer, but she hadn't felt like giving him one.
It wasn't really his business after all.
But Greg began to watch her with curious eyes. Every move.
His mother had secrets. Something he had never imagined in his
unimaginative head, and he wanted to know who bankrolled her. And
when the de Brabant Foundation had sent a care package to Natalie
to keep her going while Nick had been in the hospital, the light bulb
went off quite literally in Greg's head. He took time to rethink a
lot of things. All those packages, all through the years, had been
coming from somebody. Cathy's Godfather as he recalled. They'd
called him Uncle Brabant, and then later "the Foundation
Godfather". Natalie had never said much about him. Just that he was
an old, rich guy, who wanted to repay her.
Greg wanted to know what he was repaying her for that could
keep the money coming so many years later. He wanted to know just
exactly who this guy was. In fact, he threatened to go down and
rampage through the Foundation's office to find him.
"Good luck trying," Natalie said tartly when he'd finally
stopped yelling. "Don't expect me to post bail, and don't expect to
find Mr. De Brabant. I haven't seen him in over thirty years, so I
doubt he'd be exactly interested in meeting my obnoxious son."
Greg calmed down at her acerbic words, but he didn't
stopped thinking about it, or watching her.
Natalie knew Greg thought she had a secret lover on the side.
Natalie smiled at that. She supposed she did. A very secret lover.
One that needed a good pounding. If she could find him.
When Nick got well, Greg had told both him and Cathy
his suspicions. Cathy had laughed at him, but Nick ever the wiser, had
spoken to her late one night.
"Mom," he'd said softly, "will you thank him for helping me?"
"Thank who?" Natalie had asked, slightly confused.
"Him. Whoever he is. The one that paid the bills when I was
in the hospital. The one who sent the packages on our birthdays when
we were growing up. That him. The one who got away. The one who is
first in your heart."
Natalie had just looked at him, uncertain of what to say. And
Nick knew he had hit the target.
Natalie took a deep breath. "What are you saying, Nick?"
"I'm saying you should tell him thanks from me," Nick said
innocently, "that's all."
"And what, exactly, do you think is going on, here?"
"Mom, I don't know. I don't think what Greg thinks, though.
He thinks you've got this secret lover on the side somewhere. I don't
think you've had the time or energy with us, and your job, and Dad.
But I think you've got a past that's never quite become extinct.
Dormant maybe, but definitely not extinct.
"He certainly cares a lot about you, and about us--and Greg,
well, he's right on target about who he is, isn't he? All those
years, he was watching over you, over us, heck, even over Dad. The
packages on birthdays and holidays, the trust funds, that's a pretty
profound love, Mom. And he's someone you can count on--which is more
than you can say about Dad. In some ways, I wish you'd married him.
I think I'd like him. Heck, I know I'd like him, just because of the
way he watches over us."
Natalie had ruffled her son's hair, and smiled at him. "You
are the sneaky one, aren't you, Nick."
He'd smiled and pulled her into his arms for a hug.
"Nick?" Natalie said softly.
"What?"
"You're named for him. I just thought you ought to know."
"Really?" Nick had said unabashedly pleased.
"Yeah. Now I suggest you forget we ever had this conversation."
"What conversation?" Nick asked laughing.
And he'd never mentioned it again.
Oh Nick, Natalie thought. How you would love him. How very
much you would love my son...
The plane's landing shook Natalie out of her memories. She
was startled to realize she'd spent the entire time thinking about
Nick. Remembering. Grieving. Damn him. After all these years, it
still mattered. HE still mattered. And she wondered where he was, if
he was happy, if he'd found any peace. She wanted so much for him to
be happy, to be at peace. And she would never know.
"Thank you for flying with us today. We hope you'll join us
again in the near future...," the flight attendant intoned as the plane
parked at the gate. Natalie sighed, gathered up her luggage and left
the plane, her memories trailing after her.
Greg, bless his little wayward heart, wasn't there. He was
late again. Natalie with a sigh, settled herself in to wait until he
showed up. She should have asked Nick to pick her up. He, at least,
knew how to be on time. She watched the ebb and flow of traffic in
Toronto's airport, and found herself looking, once again, for a tall,
pale, blue-eyed blonde. Habit, she supposed. Habit.
She wondered what she would say if she ever saw him. In fact,
she could just imagine what it would be like. Her heart would
probably leap right out of her chest. Oh great, she'd have a heart
attack, just from the sight of him. Natalie laughed at the thought.
And what would he think of her. She was so old now, so very old.
Sixty-nine in looks to his thirty-four. He might be older, but he would
look like her son. The thought was just too bizarre!
Suddenly she could see it playing out as if he was there right
in front of her...
"Natalie..." The name drifted to her on a whisper of air.
Natalie froze. And after a moment turned her head, and felt
her heart leap through her chest. It slammed into her ribcage, and
she gasped.
"Nick...?"
He sat down beside her, staring intently into her face. And
Natalie could only stare back into his young, ever beautiful face. She
felt so old. So very old.
He picked up her hand and softly stroked it.
"Damn you, Nick," Natalie said finally. "Why did you leave
me?"
He looked at her, a tender smile on his face, and tears in his
eyes.
"You know why."
"I know you thought you'd kill me. But that was no excuse.
I'd like to punch you in the nose," Natalie said fiercely.
Nick laughed. "Oh, Natalie, it's so good to see you again."
"And if this wasn't a public place, I would," she finished.
Nick kissed her hand, her wrinkled old hand. "Are you happy,
Nat?"
Natalie looked at him. "I guess. As much as life is
happiness. Life has been pretty good. Three lovely children. Two
grandchildren."
"I'm sorry about Allen," Nick said as he edged closer.
"Oh, it's all right. Allen is just...Allen." Natalie looked
suspiciously at Nick. "Did you send him?"
Nick grinned openly. "Actually, no. You found him all on
your own, Nat."
"Well, just shows what kind of judge I am. I still like my
first pick best."
Nick paled a little.
"Did you think I'd ever stop loving you, Nick?" Natalie said
angrily. "Well, I didn't. Didn't you figure that out? All the phone
calls? Everything?"
"Natalie," Nick said softly. "I would have killed you. I
tasted your blood. I would have been unable to stop myself. I wanted
you too much."
"What about my choice, Nick? What about what I wanted. I
wanted you, and I didn't think the price was too high. If we'd been
together, I could still have been working on a cure. Oh, hell! Why
am I talking about ancient history. It's over and done with. We
can't go back."
Nick was silent.
Natalie looked at him. "I'm sorry. Here you are actually
making contact, and I'm ranting. How have you been doing, Nick?"
He looked up at her from under his brow. "Okay."
She looked at him.
Nick shrugged. "Lonely. I missed you."
"And I missed you."
They stared down at their clasped hands, unsure of words or
where to go from here.
"I just came in from New York," Nick said softly, "and I saw
you. I couldn't stop myself from coming over. I had to see you.
Hear your voice. I'm sorry, Nat. I shouldn't have."
He pulled his hand away, but Natalie grabbed it, and held on
hard.
"Yes, you should have." She looked at him boldly. "I know I'm
an old dried up woman, now. But I still want to see you. I want to
talk to you, Nick. And an airport is no place for what we might have
to say to each other. Please come see me, Nick. The children are
grown and gone. Please..."
Nick stared at her, drawn into her luminous eyes.
"Oh, Natalie..."
"Please, Nick."
He looked down at her hand. "I've never stopped loving you.
Never, Nat. And I have a picture of you from every year of your life,
and you grow more and more beautiful every year. So beautiful..."
"Then come back to me, just for a little while. Be my friend,
Nick."
Natalie reached out and touched his cheek. And their eyes met
and locked. Abruptly Nick reached over and kissed her lightly on the
lips. "I'll call."
He caressed her cheek. "I'll call tomorrow," and with that he
stood. He looked down at her. "I still love you, Nat," he
whispered. "This is probably a foolish thing to do, but I will
call..."
With a smile he turned and started away.
"You promise?" Natalie asked softly, so softly that only a
vampire would hear. Nick stopped and looked back over his shoulder.
"I promise. I'll..."
"Mom!" Greg said, obviously not for the first time.
Natalie regretfully found herself back in reality. Nick was
just a dream...like always. She felt like an idiot, but luckily it
wasn't showing. Natalie looked up at him. "Greg," she said calmly,
"you're late. It's about time you got here, now take me home and tell
me about Emmy. I'm sure you've got something you want to tell me,
don't you?"
With that Natalie stood and marched out, leaving Greg
open-mouthed behind her. And as she walked down the concourse, she
smiled. Let Greg think she was losing her mind. She didn't care.
She had the distinct feeling that she'd just found it for the first
time in thirty years. It was like a dam had broken loose, and she was
not going to try and stop it up again. Wild ideas swirled behind her
as she led Greg out of the airport.
Greg finally left, leaving Natalie smiling behind the closed,
locked door. So Greg was indeed going to marry Emmy. She loved that
girl, and she just knew she'd be the making of him.
She wandered slowly around the house turning out the lights
and retreated to her bedroom, and as she did so, her thoughts drifted
back to Nick. She sat on her bed and combed her hair out, letting it
fall down around her shoulders. He'd always loved it that way.
Slowly but surely, the decision she had subconsciously already made
surfaced, as if from a great depth. It had lain hidden all this time,
but now, at last, it was time.
Natalie picked up the phone and dialed the number.
"De Brabant Foundation."
"Yes, this is Natalie Graham calling..."
"Just one moment, please..."
Natalie waited patiently, a smile forming on her lips.
"Hello, Natalie." Linda said pleasantly.
"I'm sorry to disturb you so late at night," Natalie said
apologetically.
"Oh, that's all right. I'm just doing a little reading. How
about you? I thought you were in Denver visiting Cathy?"
"I just got home tonight. But this trip has turned out to be
quite a journey for me. One I've put off for decades, I'm afraid,"
Natalie said, feeling her heart start to pound.
"What kind of journey is that?" Linda asked amused.
"A journey through my memories, my past, and my present. It's
all Cathy's fault, I suppose. Or at least Seth's. He started this by
leaving her. But it doesn't matter. I finally realized what I truly
need. And it is an emergency, Linda."
"What's that?"
Natalie took a deep breath. "I want you to tell Nick that I
want to see him. It's been over thirty years, and for all the good
I've found, I've realized I'm still empty without him. Oh, Linda, I
need him and I want him. So you tell him to get himself here ASAP.
Time is running out for us. We have one last chance, and I'm not
going to miss it. It's like I told my son ever so long ago. Some
things cast such deep shadows into your life and change your reality
so completely that nothing else ever feels real by comparison. I need
him to feel real. I need him... Please Linda," Natalie pleaded.
"Just do me this one last favor."
"I promise," Linda said. "I'll send the message on right away."
"Thank you," Natalie said and hung up.
She walked around feeling giddy. The words to an old song
came to her mind.
Love can touch us one time and last for a lifetime
And never let go till we're gone.
Love was when I loved you, one true time I hold to...
She had gone on all these years without him, and yet, she'd
never been able to let him go. It was time to do something about it.
It was time to heal all the fissures in her life. Life, she thought with
joyful, ironic amusement, is indeed a gift. And she wasn't going to
waste any more of it.
She sat up all night thinking about her life, about Nick,
about what might happen, and how her children might react to Nick's
presence. It gave her some of the most amusing thoughts she'd had in
years. She was getting to be a wicked old woman.
Sunrise came and the sky was a beautiful dark blue, with heavy
white clouds rimmed with pure gold.
And Natalie knew without a doubt this was going to be the best
day of her life. She was going to see Nick again. Whether they were
friends or lovers didn't matter. They belonged together.
When the doorbell rang just after sunset, Natalie was ready.
He was still the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen...
End